


Finding solace in common circumstance - A cross-canon fanfiction (w.i.p)

by PYPS



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom, Marble Hornets
Genre: Canon Asexual Character, Childhood Trauma, Cross canon, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Developing Friendships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Needs A Hug, Male Friendship, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Not Romance, Other, Platonic Relationships, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-07-14 16:22:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16044101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PYPS/pseuds/PYPS
Summary: A platonic fanfiction with Tim Wright and Toby Erin Rodgers; Toby's canon is changed to MH's Operator Canon to make the character interact more fluidly.Tim on the run after the events of Entry #87 is making his way across the US highways finding himself in yet another dense forest. Instead of being inherently phobic of the brush he tries to find some petty comfort in Colorado's Rocky mountains dense fern and pine. As he walks he notices a younger man darting across the road and stops him in his tracks.Comments are not moderated anymore! Thank y'all for all the feedback! <3NOTE: This fanfiction is finally being actively updated again! Please stay tuned for more content! I'm aware of the tense flipping and am very sorry about that. I can't really fix it until most of the story in complete, which will then allow me to OVERHAUL the whole story. When I hit chapter 15 (not including sms / text coded chapters) I will overhaul all the prior chapters and fix the writing quality to be sort of consistent.





	1. I've dealt with people like you, many times before.

It's fairly early in the evening. The sky is a deep sort of magenta as the sun is almost near the horizon line. Stars start fading into the skies open clear canvas and their freckle-like imprint sparkles and glimmers subtly. Soon these stars would become bright pinpoint lights against a black chalkboard more so than a blank canvas. So bright above the trees as if a driving guide. Their points almost making pretty lines as if to connect dots and those dots gleam above the tall pines and fern brush of the almost dirt road in the woods of Colorado.  
  
Tim is driving on this almost empty road. He doesn't notice the stars or the fading magenta horizon line. Instead, he notices how dark it's becoming. How it's still light enough to traverse without the headlights of his car on brights but still dark enough to make him uneasy. In the back of his seat are the belongings, the ones he managed to snag before his house was burnt down. A pocket MIDI controller, his ukulele and banjo along with some other personal things. His medical documents were on the foot-place of the backseat with a yellow sheepskin jacket covering them. There also is a duffel bag with Jay's old laptop and his cell beside it on the other seat. There is a chest camera sitting in the cup holder which is usually empty, though the second one has a now almost chilly cup of black roast coffee. As he watches the old paved roads and their yellow dashing he almost feels entranced by the visuals. He finds this forest calming despite his usual impressions of those sorts of places. In his heart, he knows that his issues are resolved that what occurred just a year before is over now.  
  
_'Everything is fine.'_  
  
Tim, as he drives across the road, sees a younger man dash into the road almost crossing over the dashed lines when Tim triggers the brights and flashes them twice at the other man. However, the flashing isn't that fast and as Tim's car approaches the other he flashes one more time as an orange reflection of eyewear gleams back at Tim. Tim is startled.  
  
_'About time I put the brights on.'_  
  
After seeing the other man. Tim assumes they are both the same height and that the other is a bit thinner. He stares him down from the front windshield window and honks for the other to stop moving. The other man, however, seems to have not wanted to move at all. The honking instead of making the other more wary of Tim. As Tim opens his car door, unarmed, he notices other reflections, two beaming to the ground, two hatchets.  
  
_'Oh, this.'_  
  
Tim calls from the cracked door to the other man.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
It's a plain question, certainly not a hard one for most to answer. Tim who's ears are pressed at the car door hears a clearing of the other man's throat.  
  
"Okay," Tim shouts in response to the clearing.  
  
It's not quite the response he wanted, though it's enough to allow him to keep collected.  
  
"Please lower those. I hope that this 'issue' won't expand."  
  
The orange goggle wearing man drops both hatchets onto the road. In front of himself by several feet.  
  
"Can we agree to be friendly?" Tim shouts as he coughs a bit. He still can't cut smoking those cigarettes. When he tried to it never did him well.  
  
He gets a sort of nod from the young man and as he notices he grabs a pocket knife from the passenger's safety compartment and attaches it to his belt loop and exits the car.  
  
His flannel is not even enough warmth for a winter night in Colorado. He steps to the hatchets picking them up in front of the other and tossing them into the brush. This is a precaution, men walking in the woods dual armed is never something to just ignore mildly. The hatchets make a rustling tumble into the brush which is off-road and their holder sort of turns to watch where they landed.  
  
"I'm not dealing with people armed with sharp things tonight. Someone like _you_ should be in their bed studying for their spring semester." Tim says this in a sort of insulting tone. You could say Tim is tired of people armed trying to gut him. So he goes to the other man getting a closer inspection of him.  
  
The man is the same height but underweight as he thought. His arms are thin but he does have strong legs to run with.  
  
All those nights spent paranoid, the days of being generally out of ease to have given him an advantage of knowing proportions even out of focus.  
  
"On the run, Kid?" Tim says giving an almost warm smile. He really shouldn't be this warm considering he's talking to a threat.  
  
The other one stares quite aggressively at Tim though the aggression fades as he begins to speak.  
  
"Feeling bored, local lumberjack?" Tobias says chuckling under his breath looking at Tim's belt loop.  
  
"Get snarky all you want. I can't deal with this shit right now. Who are you? Why are you wearing converse in winter? It'll snow you know?" Tim seems now less tense but instead concerned while remaining on firm ground.  
  
_'_ This kids _an issue.'_  
  
"Tobias Erin Rodgers." Tobias says with a military-like response.  
  
"Why are you running in the woods this late?" Tim asks stepping closer. They are in the middle of a road the brights shining them down.  
  
"Finding vital-life-substance." Tobias responds still very stiff in voice and tone.  
  
"Why in the forest?" Tim interrogates looking up at the trees around them, almost entranced and trapped in the thought.  
  
It's a forest, there's a man who's armed. Deja Vu. As he trails the scenarios in his head. Tobias notices this and tries to jump Tim. Tim's eyes dart to the boy and as Tobias makes a running start. Though even with Toby's speed Tim tackles him down. The shining brights gave little allowance for either to see properly.  
  
"No, you don't." He says remaining still calm as he pins Tobias down.  
  
"Not today. It's been a year of the bullshit over and _you_ are an issue, right here right now."


	2. You should really get that checked out.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim has to pin Tobias down after Tobias tries to jump Tim. Though things start to resolve after the struggle.

Tim while pinning the smaller man he glares down at Toby, his eye narrowed and almost wincing at the other. Though Tobias doesn't struggle, he knows this is a fruitless effort on his part. This man he thought was the 'local lumberjack' wasn't local at all. Even the locals don't pin him down. Sure he's almost gotten caught by cops before. Sure he's almost gotten in deep trouble with the family he used to live with while grabbing his stuff from home. Mostly due to the fact he had to break into his old burnt home. This man who is pinning him down is at least 25 and is far stronger than Toby.  
  
_'Maybe if he didn't toss my shit away into a bush we wouldn't be here in this situation now would we?'_ Tobias thinks.  
  
"Look. Tobias. I don't know why you're scurrying around the fucking woods." Tim says to Tobias who is looking at the other.  
  
"Maybe if you didn't fling my hatchets into a fucking bush we wouldn't be dealing with this right now," Tobias says back snarkily. He's gritting his teeth and punching Tim's back as hard as he can though it isn't seeming to do anything at that moment.  
  
It's even darker now. Dead of the night and the lights of the car are still beaming at them. Tim finally let's go of grip Tobias, his hands releasing from the others sweater.  
  
"Okay. You in my car. I don't not like you, I just don't trust you. If you go in, go to the front seat. Do not touch anything and treat my car with respect and I'll grab your things." Tim list of this sort of 'terms and agreement' style list to Tobias who listens intently.  
  
_'I just want my hatchets back.'_  
  
Tobias is let go and he struggles to stand up and as Tim realizes this Tim offers a hand to prop him up.  
  
"You hurt me personally you know." Tobias said biting his cheek, stammering out the words.  
  
"If you wanted to not be hurt you wouldn't take action like that." Tim said as he sort of guided Toby to the car.  
  
"Bad vision?" Tim continues.  
  
Tobias smiles a little at the thought of Tim noticing.  
  
"Finally someone cares enough to notice that." Tobias starts.  
  
"I don't see well. I try to do my best. Nighttime is my time." Tobias says this. His voice is slightly drained and nasally, his face was smashed into the ground a bit so his nose was scuffed and red and his cheek was bruised.  
  
"What are behind those goggles?" Tim asks as he sort of gently shoves Tobias into the seat.  
  
" _My_ eyes." Tobias says sarcastically.  
  
"Good. I hoped so. Never know anymore." Tim says reassured a bit as he locks Tobias into the car as crosses the other half of the road.  
  
As he crosses he feels a wave of paranoia. His brights still give allowance for him to see around the local radius.  
  
He digs through the ferns and finds the two hatchets, one which is old, worn however it has been sharpened recently. The other is more simple and new. He wonders to himself how Tobias handles them, the man obviously doesn't have the best vision so he wonders how he manages.  
  
Tim thinks to himself about how Tobias must deal with the hatchets at nighttime. As he thinks more about it he thinks about what Toby really was doing in the middle of the night in the forest when it's pitch black.  
  
"I take it, you hunt at night because you can't see well and perform well durin' the day?"  
  
Tim says this as he opens the side door handing Toby the hatchets.  
  
"These must mean a lot to you?" Tim says almost confused about what this 19-year-old finds so important about the two hatchets.  
  
"They are mine. Been mine since I was 15 or so. Used to cut wood for my family. It's been 2 years since I've seen anyone anymore. That house that used to be a place I could stay at. Mom wouldn't want me, after all, that happened."  
  
"I'm sorry about tossing them then. I didn't want to deal with another person trying to hurt me. Either way, if you tried to jump me for malicious reasons or because I was a dick to you, just know that you'd still be in this seat no matter what."  
  
Tim lights a cigarette and starts smoking it as Toby turned on the radio, a general sort of contemporary rock station, only one in the range in the 100-mile radius. He turns the dial to raise the volume as Tim starts to drive off.  
  
"Okay. I'm taking you to a place to get dinner. You should be fed. You don't look like you've eaten' in days." Tim looks at the kid who's almost passing out.  
  
Toby's eyes are fluttering at the dashed road illuminated by the headlights. He's barely awake, the struggling caused him to lose most of his energy.  
  
Tim stops the car again and turns to Toby.  
  
"You should take those off. The glaring of the lenses might hurt your eyes." Tim says this with an almost motherly instinct.  
  
"If I do I'd get hurt more by the light hitting them directly."  
  
"Cataracts, everything hurts them. No use man." Toby says a little too casually to Tim.  
  
_"Cata- what now?"_ It escapes Tim's mind what cataracts are and as the cars remains still where it was on that same road, Toby pulls off his goggles showing his eyes.  
  
They seem to be wincing but he can probably still see well enough to see Tim's expression. The eyes could have been any color previously, now they are coated in white foggy coating making it nearly impossible to see them right.  
  
Toby stares at Tim. Who's looking right back at Toby.  
  
"You need to get that checked out." Tim says this like every other thing he's said to this kid before. Tim says it without sarcasm. He's been feeling like shit since he realized what angered Toby. It's Tim's fault. Tim knows this too, and now he's trying to make it back up to the kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah they struggle a bit, but it's not meant to be some weird romantic thing. Never think of my stuff like that, really not point since I rarely write NSFW let alone big efforts of romance.


	3. Blurry Motions ; Yellow Dashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toby and Tim decide it's best they get out for the rest of the night and talk vaguely about their past lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you should expect with Toby there are depictions of saliva and mouth injuries. You can, however, skip those parts if you need to, though my reason for writing it him is the character's features and the stories timeline (How old Toby is; 18), and provide a detailed description of a chewing tic.

As the car keeps rolling. Toby starts to lean back in the passenger seat. It's a firm seat, almost as firm as a brand new car seat. As he leans back breaking the chair in he rests his feet on the dashboard. Tim takes a moment to gaze the other's shoes which were slightly dirty on his leather dashboard.  
  
"Why kick them up?" Tim asks Toby. It really wasn't an interrogation, a small form of trust has been established at this moment.  
  
Toby gazes at Tim and his mouth twitches a bit, making a sort of grimace. The grimace isn't intentional his mouth just likes to twitch outward.   
  
"Best if I keep my feet where they won't kick on the seat or anywhere else really..." His voice fades out a bit as he continues making the expression, making small bites at the inner corner of this mouth. He takes these bites, the spots that at that time were healing being recoated with saliva. Without the saliva, it would simply be dry and almost like sandpaper or a cat tongue. The manner which he bit was simple, he makes inner marks and then almost peel away more flesh. He tried to give time for the wounds to heal. He made his best effort to fight his tics. Even when he did at his best try to not go as hard, the effort wasn't worth the mental and physical strain.  
  
Tim lowers the radio a bit. It's starting to get a bit fuzzy and unclear.   
  
"Someone your age _ought_ to be in their first year of college." Tim says over the faint sound of the music on the stereo.   
  
"Never made it out of high school," Toby replies. He sounds like he's said this same phrase before this moment, almost too many times.  
  
Tim sighs.  
  
"I tried to finish music school. Got wrapped up in a thing with my old friends. They were takin' another course?" Tim almost questions his own words but allows the tone to slide.  
  
"It's obvious whatever you _were_ working on is over, or at least didn't really matter enough to leave an impression," Toby says now tapping his foot on the dash.  
  
"A student film for their resume. I was a fill-in at one point in the film. Thing went down with the crew and director. To put it short, things got bad." Tim's eyes watch the dashing lines again but his eyes flutter at them. Such a calm yellow almost hypnotically crossing his eyes again and again.  
  
  
The dashing blurring and almost fading together. His vision begins to scatter and his head drops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next part soon; eating a meal so I don't end up passing out. Probably going to post the next one at the latest tomorrow. I try to do daily updates.


	4. Verve and Sway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picking up from chapter 3, when it seems like Tim blacks out on the drive.

When Tim's head drops Toby notices right away. The brights were still beaming forward but the car was stopped now. Toby had put the car into park as soon and Tim starts verving in the lanes. Tim's head was mostly down however it did jerk around as well as his body.   
  
Toby looked at him and didn't know quite what to do. He stared at him for a moment contemplating what he _should_ do. He's seen stuff like this before. He knows intervening isn't ideal. He aware it's almost worse if he helps out. He isn't trained for this, though knows putting the car in park is a step towards being helpful. 

He watches Tim in his own seat. He has the impulse to pin Tim down to keep him from accidentally snapping his neck. Instead, Toby who's already on alert takes his gloved hand and simply holds onto Tim's chest. Press him in place. Only with gentle force, too hard and Tim could end up hurting him also.  
  
The car's air is becoming stiff and empty. As Toby holds Tim in place he gazes out the window and sees an empty forest. In the trees, there is a figure. Though Toby cannot make it out. He's too busy keeping Tim from convulsing into a harmful position.   
  
The figure whatever it may be doesn't move. It stands still as if watching the two's interactions. It's not a blindingly present figure. It doesn't draw Toby's attention away from the dire situation.   
  
Tim eventually stops shaking and settled into a small ball on the seat. He curls up like a cat and starts crying. It's over now. The shaking has ended and Tim is exhausted.  
  
Toby doesn't touch him after this but instead looks from afar asking a simple question.  
  
"Are you okay?"

Toby sort of shuffles closer to Tim who's in his ball. Tim whimpers and sobs into his leather seat. It's a soft seat unlike Toby's, a warm soft cushion. It's worn leather in a worn car that must have traveled more than ten thousand of miles over the years.   
  
Toby leans closer and asks a question. He isn't sure if he'll get a response however he wants to know. He needs to know.   
  
"Who really are you? I mean I don't even know your name. You saw me crossing a road and picked me up and put me in your car. You offer me food and a nice warm place. Why?"   
  
Tim begins the uncurl from his ball.  
  
"You look liked you needed help. If I can offer anyone in need of help I will. After all, the most unlikely people you meet are the ones who need it most."

They both pause and Toby gives a sort of smile. This time it's genuine. Tim looks back and sort of uncomfortably smiles in return.  
  
"Probably should check in a motel to get sleep?" Tim asks Toby.  
  
"It would be nice to sleep in an actual heated room with a bed for once." Toby says smiling even harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if i post a little more infrequently i might get wrapped up in something or another and forget to post new chapters by my "self-deadlines". 
> 
> let's just say i found the key to happiness and it was right in front of me.


	5. Broadline without Daylight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim and Toby enter the motel and find themselves with a peculiar clerk at the desk. When they get into their room Tim crashes and Toby hears Tim's phone go off.

Tim and Toby enter a small motel at the side of the highway. They've finally gotten out of the woods and reached some sort of town. The motel had this sort of musky but non-offending smell. The smell of a building that was dusty but still partially maintained. The lights in the small lobby were dim but illuminated the dust that floated by.

A clerk sits at the pine desk and taps his pen. His eye scanning the room bored. He sees Tim and Toby make their way and reach his desk. The man has dirty blonde hair. It's shoulder-length and atop his head a bun. and eyes of pale violet. He's wearing a loose sleeveless top and he blankly stares at the two.

He then beings to chuckle as he gives them a sort of smirky gaze and traces the two as he slams his hands on the table grinning like a complete dork.

"Oh look! Two men at a motel!" The sort of manic aggressive man says as he beings to laugh hard. He keeps laughing as Tim awkwardly slides several bills to the guy.

"No really. I'm not trying to make fun of you. I just like seeing those odd types come here. Rare to find a southerner in Colorado." The man smiles at the two compassionately. His accent is a horrifying mix of Vermont and Southern East Gulf American. He starts writing Tim's name in.

"Hey, Goggled boy? What's your name so I can put it in the check-ins log?"

Tim glares at the blonde man while Toby starts to say his name.

"Toby." He says this plainly once again with an empty voice likewise to how he talked to Tim at first.

"Ah. Yes. Check that down Tobes" The clerk said while writing Toby into the book and writing another name under the prior.

"Wright and Toby, both of y'all are checked in. Just go into the west outlet over there." The man points at the left hall.

Tim is still wary of the Blonde man who's still smiling at the two. The smile isn't creepy it's just eerily familiar. The man's southern twang is what struck Tim as really uncomfortable along with his dirty blonde hair.

"I'm Broadline. The clerk in this shabby place." The blonde man says to the two.

Tim looks at Broadline.

"Broadline? Like a _broad line_ or a _broadcasting line_?" Tim asks.  
Toby shuffles in place as Tim asks this to Broad.  
"Like a broadcasting line. A line which a broadcast would travel. A stream... A current-" Broad is then stopped in his tracks by Tim.

"Got it." Tim pulls his duffle bag from the lobby couch and carries it to the entry to the west wing of the motel.

The motel was a sort of 'L' shape. The entrance was a pair of double doors in the center corner of the building, where it would diverge into outlets.

Tim and Toby feel a stiff air as they enter into the wing. The dust seems to be more abundant and Tim sighs.  
"Already sick _enough_ in the lungs because of this sort of thing." Tim says as he pulls his flannel up to his nose and mouth.

"Well. At least we aren't in a fucking parked car and you aren't having a seizure." Toby says as he gets closer to Tim.

These halls were even dimmer than the already dim lobby. The doors are all identical. The ones which are occupied have a door sign hanging from the knob. The sign has a bold font that reads "Loaned" made of a sort of shiny plastic. There aren't many doors with the sign but as they reach their room they find no door sign instead they find the door key which is just a slide card on the floor by the gap of the door.

Tim looks at the passkey and picks it up and slides it on the lock. The door opens and its two beds. There are two beds a queen and a twin. Toby wonders around the motel room and brings the blinds down and turns on the desk lamp by the window and Tim instinctively goes to the twin after he drops his bags down.

The walls are covered with wallpaper. It's been neatly applied to the walls and has a floral print on it. There are purple and white orchids printed on the paper with sprigs of pine present on the print also. As Toby sits at the desk in the room he hears a light vibration from Tim's duffle bag.

Tim is lying face down on the twin bed. His face shoved into the pillows at the headboard. The room is hazy and the dim yellow lighting makes the effect even more prominent. Toby walks to Tim's bag and pulls the cell out.

It's a blackberry set on low contrast mode and there are a few notifications.  
Toby looks at the contact who's been texting Tim. The contacts nickname is "Jess" and there is a picture of a brunette girl in a teeshirt smiling into a camera.

Toby decides to start scrolling through the texts as Tim starts falling asleep.


	6. Jessica's Elegy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jessica's Text Messages with Tim

Toby looks at the dim greyed out screen and presses the center cursor to make his way to the top of the message chain.

> **12:30pm** _Jess:_ hey!
> 
> **12:30pm** _Jess:_ it's been a while tim?
> 
> **12:45pm** _Jess_ : it's literally been months since all that stuff. you know? still got your contact.
> 
> _Sent 11/23/14_
> 
> **6:21pm** _T.W:_ Sorry for not replying right away. I'm in and out of service lately. If that becomes an issue later on just consider I bought a new phone or smthin.
> 
> **6:22pm** _Jess:_ like i'd miss u messaging? its been months of silence. i thought id give it a try.
> 
> **6:25pm** _T.W:_ Why get back into contact now then? If it had been that many month w/o word you might as well not had contacted at all.
> 
> **6:30pm** _Jess:_ you're clearly upset cause i didn't get in contact sooner.
> 
> **6:33pm** _T.W:_ It's better I just avoid things actually. Better you didn't message at all. After all that shit back there. I'd like to disconnect from it.
> 
> **6:34pm** _Jess:_ makes sense buddy. i have some old photos i can try to txt you? just tell me if you want them?
> 
> **6:37pm** _T.W:_ Send them when I need them. I'm at a rest stop right now grabbing some supper. In the kindest way I can put it right now, don't reply to this. 
> 
> _Sent 11/29/14_
> 
> **4:23am** _Jess:_ u might want to really take a peek at those photos
> 
> _Delivered 12/22/15_

Toby looks at the last message and thinks about it for a bit. Even Toby wants to see the photos. But he respects Tim and his choices. Toby places the phone carefully back into the bag and curls up on the queen bed. He pulls the covers from their neat folding onto the upper mattresses gap with the lower boxspring. He curls into the sheets and tries to fall asleep with another stranger in his 'bedroom'.


	7. That would be nice.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim orders bed and breakfast for Toby and him to share as they discuss and recap the last night and what to do next.

Tim lifts his head from the now flat smushed pillow and looks around the motel room. The sun is only casting vague lights down through the blinds which leave beams on the motel rooms dark green carpet. The sun has just risen high enough to announce that it is in fact early morning. The air in the room unlike the night prior is cool and clear making it easy for Tim to breathe.   
  
 _'Could I had been just imagining the stiff air?'  
  
_ Tim goes to his duffle bag and pulls his blackberry out of it. It was resting on his spare clothes. He looks at the motel room door and then to Toby's bed and starts checking his messages. He goes to the last message from Jessia and sighs. As he goes to then close the inbox he instead decides to leave a reply to her. After shuffling with the cell phone he eventually sets it on his bedside table, face down against the wooden surface.   
  
Since it's morning and he's not tired as hell he gets to see the rest of the room in it's whole. It's forest green carpeting looked nice and matched the floral printed walls. All the tables were made of a dark pine. The lamps were a sort of olive green and emitted a yellow light. It was a pleasant room. It to Tim was a friendly space to stay in for the time he will spend there.   
  
 _'What day is it anyway?'  
  
_ He remembers that his phone read it was December the twenty-second. He laughs a bit remembering that in 2 days it would be his birthday and in 3 it would be Christmas day. All that time driving kept him from thinking about the most basic things, the date, the time of day. Everything didn't matter when he spent most of the days so far driving as far away as he could from Tuscaloosa. He didn't have time to think about 'the day' or 'the time'. All he needed to know is if he had gas, or if he needed to go to a rest stop. He sighs and looks at Toby whos under the sheets snoring softly into the down pillows. Tim grabs a small notebook from his bag and starts writing something down. He writes this quickly and smiles as whatever he is writing about as his pen glides across the page and he writes clearly. Sure there are some jagged and shakey edges to his lettering but it still looks quite nice and he's satisfied with his penmanship.  
  
Tim decides to leave the room to walk around the motel for a bit. The halls are far less intimidating. What at first looked like a sketchy motel looks more so like a well-kept hotel. The walls, unlike the room, were just painted. They have been painted a light mint green with the same dark pine lining the top and bottom rims of the walls. The air is clear during the day. The sun beams in lightly through the end hall's windows and the floor gets an almost grazing of it. The matte wood floors had an almost soft texture as if one would walk around the place barefoot.   
  
Tim decides to go to the lobby where Broadman had been sleeping on his desk the whole night his face pressed into a newspaper which he had started to droll on. Tim gazes at the pathetic clerk man.   
  
"Do you ever leave this place? The clock reads 9 A.M yet you've been here at least since 2 A.M." Tim says staring at the man who had started to rise up by hearing Tim speak.   
   
"No. I work here. I own this place. No, _I won't hire anyone else._ " Broadman said groggily as he starts opening the check-in's book and writing another name in the chart.   
  
"So you just sleep here?" Tim asked wondering why Broad didn't hire new employees.   
  
"Yes. Since it might as well be my own house. Though since it, after all, is a work environment can't book me my own room..." Broadman said as he turned on a radio playing some 90's rock on the station.   
  
"Is there any breakfast here? Or do I have to order out?" Tim asked now realizing the pathetic man's job.   
  
"Here. I can cook you up something just... leave the room unlocked and I'll bring breakfast." Broadman said as he started getting up and pulling something out his desk drawer with was a simple apron.   
  
Tim smiled at the man's dedication to his job and headed back to the motel room. When he entered he found Toby right at the entrance of the room looking at Tim relieved.   
  
"I thought you ran away and left me here." Toby said stuttering. Toby looked concerned now and looked like he'd been crying. Maybe into the bed maybe at the doorway.   
  
"I just ordered breakfast. You don't have to worry, Toby. I have no reason to leave." Tim said as he sat on the queen bed. Toby following him shaking and curling up next to Tim.   
  
"You realize anyone who's ever been nice to me I left or left me," Toby says to Tim.  
  
"Ditto." Tim says disconnected.   
  
"It's almost Christmas." Toby said sadly sighing to Tim's shirt.   
  
"I haven't celebrated Christmas with someone in so long. Fucking hell... I haven't celebrating anything in so long." Toby said almost angry at the thought. He start curling up tighter into Tim's shirt.  
  
"Well... I think I can change that?" Tim said. He wanted to take back the statement. That's why he didn't promise it. He can't make promises, if they are unfofilled he feels awful about it.  
  
Toby brings his head up and smiles a bit at Tim, who sort of looks back down at Toby.   
  
"That would be nice..." Toby whispered.


	8. Poached Eggs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breakfast arrives late but the food is good so Tim and Toby don't seem to mind.

By the time there's a knock on the motel room door it is at least noon. The sun is at its midpoint though the blinds are still drawn to a close. As the sun peers its way through the blinds its casting lines are almost bright beams. Tim is pulling the twin's bed sheet to drape over the blinds as the door is knocked again. Toby yawns and itches his chin and stumbled out of bed to the door. He can barely see. He had fallen asleep again after crying. If he cries too much, he sort of lulls himself to sleep involuntarily. The company of Tim gave him comfort. After all, it's better to cry with someone with you than alone. At least this was the case for Toby. Toby turns the knob and Broadman sort of pushes the tray into Toby's hands.   
  
"Cooking for you was fun. However, I have to clean the kitchenette every time I cook. Don't worry though, I don't have an issue scrubbing town the stove." Broadman belts these sentences out with great speed and halts to breathe.   
  
"Eggs Benedict?" Toby asks Broadman.  
  
"Yes. Eggs Benedict, with lox. Two, open face on muffins, hollandaise sauce and sour cream with chives." Broadman smiles pointing at the parts he was speaking about enthusiastically to Toby.   
  
"I'll be off now." He continued as he softly closed the door allowing Toby to set the hot tray down.  
  
Toby walked to the bedside desk and set the tray down. The tray was adorned with pretty wildflowers and their petals. There were two cups of tea along with some packets of sugar and a small jar of honey. Under the ceramic mugs were two handkerchiefs with an embroidered S.E on them in a pretty shiny olive thread. Toby started putting sugar into his own cup leaving Tim's untouched and sat at the desk with Tim.   
  
"He came pretty late." Toby noted to Tim, speaking softly as if worried that Broadman would hear him say so.   
  
"Not his fault, probably cleaned up before servin' us?' Tim glances at the now sheet-less twin bed.   
  
"How are you going to sleep on that?" Toby asked stammering a bit.   
  
"I'll find a way. Slept on cement before." Tim says chuckling a bit. It's an awkward chuckle. It was down to earth despite the context of the sentence.   
  
Toby cuts into his muffin and starts to eat it. While Tim just sort of sit there and drink his coffee. The taste of the lox was complimented by the lemon sauce. The flavours blending together nicely. The egg on the bottom with the yolk that soaked into the muffin was Toby's favourite part. As Toby finishes up his food Tim's remains untouched. Tim then starts rotating the plate so his food is directed at Toby.   
  
"You need it more than me." He says kindly as he pushes the plate closer to Toby.   
 


	9. Jess has attached an image file.

> **7:14am** _T.W:_ Send the photo, I guess.
> 
>  
> 
>   
>    
>    
> 
> 
> _Jess has attached an image file._  
>    
> 
> 
> _Delivered Today at 2:23pm_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alt img text tells you whos in the picture;
> 
>  
> 
> though if you can't alt txt it's brian aka the hooded man from marble hornets with tim trying to be as straight as they can be.


	10. Idle talks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim and Toby speak together again. Instead deeper into their pasts and their company together. The time they've been spending.

Toby laughs as he finishes up the muffin. The chuckle is hearty and soft, almost a show of accomplishment. Breakfast was rare for Toby and having something right then just by Tim asking felt nearly surreal. He had basically been living a life of scavenging and homelessness and having something as simple as a buttered toasted muffin off the burner was almost dream-like. Food, right there, a plate with clean silverware and most importantly a friend.  
  
"It's kind of funny, looking back..." Tim said breaking the silence. He took a deep sigh, a breath just before he began to speak again.  
  
"Only a day before I was driving on a dirt road. Now I'm in a motel." Tim, said this with a sort of depersonalized blankness.  
  
"Looking back? It was just a day ago..." Toby said.  
  
"Time, feels fast when everything is changing around you. Sometimes it feels like its so slow that you are dredging your feet through quicksand." Tim smiled softly at Toby.  
  
"It's not bad right?" Toby said as he chewed on a piece of bacon which he snatched from the one plate Tim did have in front of him.  
  
"Not bad... Just out of place." A puzzled muted tone escaped Tim's lips. As if he were hesitant of saying the wrong thing.  
  
"It was more than the breakup of a crew. It was all wrong all messed up, disjointed?" Tim questioned himself trying to recall.  
  
"Tapes, Cameras, Vocorders and reeling back tapes. Sitting in bed, sweating, shivering all at the same time while being on the verge of throwing up." Tim said with a frantic panicked tone.  
  
"Never being sure who's looking out for you, or going to exploit you..." He trailed off.  
  
Toby looked at him confused but clearly stirred.  
  
Toby look at Tim his eyes focused as closely as possibly to his face. Tim seemed to shutter a bit while Toby kept his eyes fixated on him. The man seemed to tear up albeit a little. This level of uneasiness which radiated from Tim seemed to stir Toby just by being near him. Toby was always keen when someone around him was upset. Whatever feeling was expressed would seemingly transfer to him. Maybe he was too empathetic, to kind. Toby knew he expressed it wrong in the eyes of other's but he always meant well.  
  
After a long bit of silence and motionlessness Toby stood up to close the blinds eventually sitting back down, tapping his foot rapidly and he glanced around the room. His eye first made contact with the duffel bag on the twin beg, the phone lazily placed on the canvas lining. Then his eyes shifting their trajectory to the gaping of the blinds. Looking outside made Toby nervous so instead he looked at Tim.  
  
A feeling which could only be described as helplessness filled Toby. He was so used to keeping his trauma to himself, yet Tim was so comfortable being able to be able to mention it slightly just as if the thought was passing him. Toby started to bite his nails and finally thought of the words he wanted to say.  
  
"What happened." It wasn't delivered like a question but with the inflection of a statement or demand. The sort of muffle of Toby's voice through the face mask made it hard to tell tone unless he was screaming or crying, most things even without it were delivered with a certain level of indifference and monotonous jest, right now it was more so a demanding concern more than anything.  
  
  
Tim gazed over almost dodging eye contact as began to sigh.  
  
"It's... a long story. One you probably don't want to know."   
  
Toby almost made a frustrated noise as he stood back up again. His hands waggling and waving confused and speechless. He was befuddled, of course he wanted to know. Though he couldn't deny that prying could do more damage than good. Asking too much could lose all trust built up to this moment and breaking it down just to know something that might be better left unsaid would be selfish and self-indulgent.   
  
"Maybe... It would be easier if I talked first." Toby said with a light shrug. He started kicking back in his chair resting his dirty beaten up sneakers on the edge of the coffee table.   
  
"I had a sister named Lyra. She was one of the most supportive and kind people in my life. Always there to bandage me up and cheer me up and play with me after school when I was little. She always had such a genuine smile. Can eyes be kind?" He started trailing his words off and scrambled to pick them back up again.  
  
"Father didn't like her. Always said she was too kind to me, that she should focus more on _him_ than me. Jealous that I was given so much care and attention."  
  
Tim nodded silently listening as he started picking dirt from his nails.  
  
"All he wanted was her to clean his vomit off the floor and make get him a cold one from the fridge. But all she wanted to do was get ready for nursing school."  
  
"We got into a car accident on her way taking me back from an after-school club thing, everything rushed around me. All I remember was feeling the wind and static? In the head? Like a sort of fuzzy un-clearness, probably a concussion. Waves and and waves of nausea and shiny red and shards of glass. This sort of looming mass of doom. Next thing I was in a hospital bed and my mother was looking at me. After that things get even more unclear, fire?"  
  
"Static?" Tim asked almost inquisitively.  
  
"Yeah like... Literal head static? Not just, a fuzziness but a literal feeling of that electrifying nausea and disconnection."  
  
Tim's phone rang off from his bedside table. Vibrating on the wood making a small shuttering clacking noise. He jumped up as if instinct has taken control over his body and answered the line, his voiced trembled when he answered.   
  
"Yes? Timothy Wright on the line."  
  
"No."  
  
"Also, no."  
  
"Not anywhere near there. Not coming down, Jess."   
  
"It's close to Christmas, I'm aware..."  
  
He paused a bit almost hesitant, sighing again almost relieved.  
  
"I guess if I can make it in time? I have company."  
  
Over the line there was a soft laugh of a woman.  
  
"No- No- Not another cat... Better than a cat."  
  
"Ok. So you're fine with company? One guest room will be enough really."   
  
"Working late on Christmas Eve- Oh rush deliveries right. Apart of a courier service, gotcha."   
  
"I'll be there asap, packing up now then. So... Uh..."  
  
Toby started tapping his feet but his face lit up when heard _Christmas,_ and _Guest Room_ along with _Packing Up_.  
  
"See you then!" Tim said almost uplifted as he hung up and started ushering Toby to him.  
  
  


 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, when reposting, reblogging and so on, PLEASE CREDIT ME. I've put over 3 months of on and off work into this and would really like credits being thrown my way. When tagging don't use SHIP tags!


End file.
